


Dirty Dancing

by casstayinmyass



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen, Bottom Misha, Cockles Week, Coming In Pants, Dirty Dancing, Dry Humping, Frottage, Grinding, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Sexual Liberation, Shameless Smut, Top Jensen, Top Misha, Vancouver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Downtown Vancouver, late Friday night after shooting, Jensen and Misha are dancing dangerously close, and Jensen finds it hard to break the proximity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Dancing

The heat of all the bodies pressed together in one room was electrifying, intoxicating.

It was late, Jensen didn't know how late, but it had been dark outside for quite some time. The downtown Vancouver night club they were in was a good way to unwind after a long week on set, and he was dancing, with a wild crowd, some crew and cast members by the bar somewhere.

Jensen was dancing close to Misha. The room illuminated by the black lights and strobes, he caught glimpses of his co-star and friend's face, neck, body...

Alcohol coursed through his veins, the heavy, uncompromising thump of the beat pounding in his ears, resonating through his body. He felt more drunk than he actually was, and for a second, he had an unremitting desire to taste Misha's mouth, to taste that gorgeous neck he kept showing, and then taste his dick too.

The thought surprised him. He had denied he had ever liked Misha to everyone who had ever expressed speculation- Jared, Mark, Felicia, hell, even Jeremy had asked him about it at one point. Every time it was a straight, sometimes pissed off a little, _no_ , _I don't think anything of Misha other than a good friend to have around, so stop asking!_

But tonight was different. Tonight, Jensen was lost in the music, the base, the swirling heat, and he forgot why he had denied himself the other man this long... Misha was moving so dangerously close, so irresistibly dirty, swinging his hips as if oblivious to Jensen's watchful gaze.

But maybe he wasn't oblivious. Misha's eyes fluttered closed, the part of his chest that was visible glistening with sweat. He had light stubble growing in around his face, as did Jensen, and on Misha, it looked rough, and sexy, and oh...

Jensen couldn't say he couldn't help the tell-tale swelling in his pants. If he really cared as much as he had made it seem to everyone else, he would have run to the bathroom, dowsing his face with cold water, maybe even opting to jack off until he just came and got all this pent-up tension out of his system.

But he was rooted there, couldn't move, couldn't run, only watched Misha watch him, with a glint in the other's blue eyes staring back now.

Normally, if Jensen had been looking at Misha the way he assumed he was looking, on set, say, his friend probably would have teased him with a playful 'what?' or a warning shove, but tonight, Misha just grinned, dancing even closer.

Jensen swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. Misha was hot, he simply radiated rough, gritty, hot and messy sex, and in that single, guilt free moment, he wanted them to fuck unabashedly until the next day. Or maybe the next fucking week, until one or both of them couldn't fucking walk.

Unable to contain himself anymore, Jensen subtly ground his hips up against Misha's, making the first unspoken move. Misha raised his eyebrows, but after Jensen kept going, he reached a hand out to palm Jensen through his pants.

Jensen bumped his groin right into Misha's obvious erection, and the shorter man moaned loudly, cause it's not like anyone could hear or see them, everyone in their own world.

Misha grabbed Jensen by the collar, and yanked him in so that their mouths slammed together, all wet lips, hot tongue, shallow breath, and hands roaming with no particular end game in mind.

Jensen'd never made out with a guy before, but this wasn't just any _guy_ ; this was Misha. Even though Jensen didn't really know what kind of difference that made, it just _did_. They had worked together for so long, and after all this time of heated, bitter denial and repression of feelings, it just... it didn't even matter now.

Sparks of arousal ignited a larger fire deep in his belly as Misha's hands found their way to cup his balls through the fabric of his denim, 'cause god dammit, if there was a way to do something seemingly impossible, Misha would find it.

Jensen gripped Misha by his mussed up hair and rammed him into the wall at the corner of the club, everyone still dancing and drinking around them, either ignorant to or beyond giving a shit about the two going at each other in a public place.

Misha let out a strangled little noise, and Jensen dragged his tongue up that neck he loved and wanted to taste so badly. It was deliciously salty from the sweat.

Misha's hands went to Jensen's back, and the two continued their dirty, shameless game of bump and grind.

Jensen needed to come- he could feel it approaching, embarrassingly fast, raking his insides with pleasure and a deep, flickering burn, making him want to cry out for more, another, everything whenever Misha's talented hips snapped up to tease his.

He captured Misha for another kiss, and Misha let him,  nudging his hips against the other's in a desperate attempt to create more friction.

They rubbed their straining cocks together through the frustrating material, and as Misha bit down hard on his lip, Jensen began to come, feeling the blissful feeling spread from his stomach, through his dick, all the way to the head, and he felt the wet liquid empty into his boxer briefs and mix with the seemingly perpetual sweat from his inner thighs.

He groaned, pinning Misha to the wall as he rutted against him, drawing himself out. The hot cum was sticky in his pants, but he didn't care... he was far from taking notice of his discomfort, and he was already feeling himself twitch again as he stared at Misha's blown wide and wild eyes.

He made a little gesture, and licked his lips, too delirious and high off pheromones to attempt keeping his dignity intact. He wanted to make Misha come his brains out... he craved to hear that moan wring out from Misha's lips as he buried himself down Jensen's throat, cursing and shaking through it.

He knelt down, and, unbuckling Misha's belt just enough, he found his still hard, throbbing dick. Without hesitation, Misha twisted his fingers into Jensen's hair, forcing himself into Jensen's mouth.

Jensen choked a little on the not-so-surprisingly thick girth, grinning and humming around it. Misha fucked into Jensen's mouth with reckless panting, and Jensen swallowed him every time he did, Misha so far gone he could barely mumble.

With one last thrust, Misha shuddered, whispering obscenities, and Jensen could taste the hot projectile liquid shooting into his mouth.

It was a sweet, unique taste, and a little more than he was expecting, as some excess dripped down his lip to his chin. Misha tucked himself back into his pants again, and stood Jensen up, going in and licking the extra cum off of Jensen's swollen lips with obscene slurping noises.

In a shock, he gasped as he felt Misha's sweaty right hand reach down into Jensen's pants, tugging on him and wrenching and squeezing and stroking until he was fully hard again, and oh, again, again-

As Misha jerked him one last perfect time, Jensen came for the second time that night, his second orgasm raging through him, with the same merciless intensity as last, if not more.

He added this load to the other one in his pants, and Misha grinned, a hazy and lopsided smile splayed across his face as the afterglow hung around them like a mist.

And the beat still thumped in their ears. The risk and possibility of their co-stars glimpsing them still heavily hung in the air, and yet both men felt unrestricted, satisfied, yet as if a deep thirst had yet to be quenched once again.

Misha reached over to grab something, and raised his lips to a bottle of Jack he been drinking before, and the two continued dancing against together in an endless tease and an endless draw toward each other.

Jensen wondered how it would be when they went back to work on Monday... how things would be between them... if they would talk about this, forget about it, or god forbid, act on it.

It was hard to tell. All he knew was that it was late, some night on some week in some month in some downtown Vancouver club, and he was dirty dancing with the sexiest man there. 


End file.
